The Swiss National Sausage

This might sound a little bit strange for the non-Swiss, but its essential to set this one right early on.

There is one central sausage in Switzerland. Some people may try to convince you otherwise. People from the canton Sankt Gallen for example will tell you "da dör me nöd säge! dasch denn öbbe nöd de serwela, daschd broodwoascht gopferdeckchl!". But I assure you, they are wrong (right, Livi?). Like many things east of Basel. But that is another story and will be told another time.

The (and we are talking The with a capital T here) sausage is the Cervelat. Or Klöpfer. It's a pretty boring sausage, actually, at least compared to things like a Nürnberger (remember the BBQ at City YHA?), or a Citterio Salami, or a Saucisson Vaudoise, but: Swiss people get this one here probably right after they have been weened off their mothers milk. The cervelat can be eaten cold, and especially the Wurstsalat has become famous in its own right. Or even better, the "Wurstsalat garniert". Which is, honestly, also not something that will ever make it into the gourmet hall of fame, but on a hot sommer evening, together with a cold beer it can't be beaten. Oh no sir, not this one. Think hilly country side, a nice inn at the far end of the village, a garden with a couple of benches, a large horse-chestnut tree whose shade cools the place and then, the Wurstsalat garniert. Oh yeah.

But that's not the topic here. The topic is the Cervelat itself. Which, actually, should be grilled. Or even better, grilled on a wood fire. When you are out and hiking, there the Cervelat shines. You learn it from your father, or in the boy scouts, if your father is more the couch potato: how to collect the right twigs and branches for the fire, how to ignite it with a single match, that you have to wait until the flames are gone, until there are only red hot embers. Look for the ones covered in white ash, those are the hottest ones. And then grill the Cervelat on them. You need to find a wooden stick (that's where the Swiss army knife comes in handy) and sharpen one end. Then cut crosses (Switzerland!) into each end of the sausage and put it on the stick. When the Cervelat heats up, the ends will bend outwards, making it look quite funny. Once the sausage is ready, you can put a little bit of mustard on top of each of the eight little ends and eat them one by one. Delicious!

There are two fractions in Switzerland. One claims that you have to skin the sausage before you grill it. The other fraction heavily opposes that. There is no consense here (ask Esther! She still insists on keeping the skin on!).

The picture is actually a piece of art, and it shows exactly how a perfectly grilled Cervelat looks like.

And as my mother uses to say (and Stefan Remmler): everything has an end, only the sausage has two.

But there is also a sad addition to it: the skin of the Cervelat comes actually from Brasil. Where they have the only cattle with the right guts for this kind of skin. But the European Union fears that these guts might contain the stuff that causes mad cow disease. And they want to ban the import of these guts. The Swiss were shocked. So far, we haven't run out of guts, but it could well be that the shape of the Cervelat might change in the near future. What a country, where these are the only problems...

We have a home

Wooahh, that was a hectic Wednesday! We had applications running for three flats at the same time, and, of course, we had our number one. I honestly had no idea what our chances were and therefore we tried our very best: we scanned the applications the same evening we saw the flats and e-mailed them to the landlords right away. Then I had to go to Basel, my old hometown to get the paper that shows that I am financially more or less alright, I think I wrote about that. 17 Swiss Francs (about 20 NZD) per paper. And of course they all wanted an original, no copy... Well, there is nothing you can do. And its all for a good cause.

And then, waiting... A day later I called one of the landlords under the pretext to check whether the letter has arrived. And to make it very clear how super-interested we are in the flat. Was that a good idea? I was not sure... I had the impression he was slightly annoyed. Oops.

Two days later I had an e-mail in my inbox: We had flat number 3 (on our personal hitlist) for sure. All we had to do was say "yes". Today. Dammit! The others would tell us in two days, should I let this one go and gamble or rather take number three but have it for sure? Esther! I need your help! But Esther was far away and when I finally reached her, she was as undecided as I was. Should I call the landlord of number one and ask him to hurry with his decision? Call the guy again?! Could be the safest way to loose the top flat. But then again, I had to know whether we were at least still in the game. I decided to risk it and called the guy. I was all apologetic and told him right away that I was no stalker at all and explained the misery that I was in. He was very understanding. Phew. We were among the top 2 for flat number 1. Excellent. Actually, he said, we were his favourites, but he still has to check whether the income that we claimed to earn was correct. Seriously, that's how they do it here! I raced to the secretary of our group and told her to call the guy pronto. Done. One hour later my phone was ringing: we got flat number one. Yes.

We will move in July 1. And yes, we have a dedicated guest room. For free.

Flat hunting

...is somewhat different in Switzerland. There is no such thing as three weeks notice and you are out of your flat. Here, you need to tell your landlord three months in advance that you want to leave. Which, of course, also means that you need to start hunting early. Very early. Which we, uhm, forgot. Plus, we are looking for a flat more or less close to Zürich. And flats in Zürich are rare and expensive. And around Zürich its the same.

In our case, we are looking for a place to live in Baden. Which is a beautiful little town, a real castle overlooking a medieval centre, an old gate that guards the entrance of the town, small alleys, old houses with very elegant facades, cobblestones, a little bit of a maze-feeling, really nice. Flat-hunting starts with homegate.ch, and there you look for flats to rent. In Switzerland people rent flats, they would never buy them. And there is no such thing as number of bedrooms. Here, it is number of rooms. Kitchen and bathrooms are not rooms, so you just count things like study rooms, bedrooms and living rooms. So as a couple, you look for three or four rooms. And the rent is paid monthly. Be aware that there is the rent and then there are the "Nebenkosten", which are listed separately but which are actually just added to the rent. Never mind. The rent includes the heating but usually not the water and the electricity. And whiteware is always included. Well, if you know all that, you can start hunting.

When you find something that you like, you ask the landlord whether you can have a look at it. You and five other couples. It's a strange situation. Slightly competitive, every couple tries to be the nicest one, laughs about all the stupid jokes of the landlord and repeats again and again how nice the flat looks and how well one would fit in. It's true! E actually pushed me "go on, talk a little bit more to the guy!" and so I did... Once the tour is finished, forms are handed out where you have to list addresses, employer details and references and then it's just praying silently at home. Actually, no, it's more. There is the Betreibungsregisterauszug. Roughly it's an official piece of paper which says that you have no current financial prosecutions against you. Well, we don't, but because we haven't lived in Switzerland during the last two years, this form doesn't say a lot. But the prospective landlord calmed me down, it's not the first time they have dealt with those things. Phew.

I will not tell you which flats are on our list, but I will tell you once we got one ;-)

Fingers crossed.

Back home

It is strange coming home to Switzerland. Everybody knows that this country is quite small, but it is also, uhm, fully packed. Not cramped, because, of course, it is a tidy country. It resembles more a nicely filled pantry. Lot's of great stuff, and everything at hand, but sometimes difficult to reach because other things are in the way.

I still know the way Switzerland works. I recognize all the familiar sounds. Then again, it is like you wake up from a dream and your mind is still in the mood of your dream. In the case of a good dream, this is mixed with the disappointment of being back in reality...

About two hours after touchdown I had my first piece of Swiss cheese. Emmentaler. The one with the big holes. I think the purists will claim that my first piece should have been Gruyère, which is probably the archetype of Swiss cheeses, the one that complements alphorns, cows and stuff, but I prefer Emmentaler. And I have to say, it was gorgeous! Then some good bread with a proper crust and nuts in it, some cured meat from the canton Graubünden, a juicy grape, voilà!

And somewhere between customs and this piece of Emmentaler it was, the idea to start a new blog, one that is catering for people abroad. I could try and explain Switzerland to them. Quite a difficult job, but then again, quite easy: I would just go on and jot down what happens to me. I am Swiss, after all and the way things happen around me are pretty Swiss as well. At least I think so.

So let's begin the experiment. Maybe it dies a quick and painless death, or it slowly rots away, or ideally, it will thrive and turn into an enjoyable read!